


Yosemite

by Morethancupcake



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3839221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morethancupcake/pseuds/Morethancupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>""I always wanted to go to Yosemite." Oliver's voice is a little rough, and Connor tries to convince himself it's from the nap they just took, holding on to each other."</p>
<p>Oliver had dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yosemite

"I always wanted to go to Yosemite." Oliver's voice is a little rough, and Connor tries to convince himself it's from the nap they just took, holding on to each other. He wants to believe the slight tremor in Ollie's hand is not from the tears, and the exhaustion, but more about the way he doodles little nothings under his shirt, more about the kisses he puts under Ollie's jaw. "I had dreams. Stupid dreams. I wanted to go to Thailand, too, and get a sunburn. I wanted to get married, and to teach my son how to ride his bicycle." Oliver laughs softly, it's like a bird playing with his wings, just a soft, beautiful little sound against his skin, and it breaks Connor's heart. "What am I going to do, now ?"

They sleep a little more, Oliver clutching at his shirt, Connor keeping his hand on his boyfriend's back, keeping him safe, warm. Here.

In the morning, Oliver is back to himself, almost. It's as if the night never happened, he is singing under the shower, and he steals a kiss when he gets ready for work, complaining about Connor's poor choice of breakfast.

It's domestic, and normal.

Still, on his way to work, Connor is thinking.

It takes a few weeks for him to do something, he still isn't sure they're ready for it, he's not sure he's allowed to do anything. Still, Oliver looks so sad, sometimes when he thinks no one sees him. He looks so scared, like a child forgotten in a mall. He has to do something.

It takes a lot of coaxing, and a few unspeakable promises to drag Oliver with him at the gym. Connor says goodbye to the giant jar of Nutella, and makes them green juices in the morning, and he pouts when Oliver tries to call him on it, telling him avoiding bacon isn't going to magically change things. He rants about how dramatically out of shape they are, how they need to pay attention, and how nice it is to be able to run up the stairs and not cough out a lung in the process.

Oliver fights, Oliver moans, Oliver makes fun of him, but he kisses him under the shower after their sessions, and he seems happier. And Connor is totally okay with rewarding his boyfriend when they're home. Or in the showers. Or in the locker room.

He manages to get two weeks of holidays, and it takes a lot of blackmailing to get Oliver's manager to accept his leave too. He lies about his parent's beach house, and the barbecues, and Oliver buys them sunscreen and matching linen shirts they'll wear in the sun.

It's going perfectly.

And then the delivery guy screws up.

Oliver is asking him about the backpacks, and the big shoes. He's chopping tomatoes for a salad, and he asks if Connor has plans for the summer he isn't aware of. He isn't exactly sad, or scared, and for this Connor is glad. He's glad Oliver isn't so scared of him lying. He considers lying. He thinks about accusing someone, anyone, but then...

"It's for us." And when Oliver raises his eyes from the salad bowl, Connor adds. "I'm taking us to Yosemite. We're going to camp, eat outside and get murdered by a bear in our sleep."

"But... but..." Oliver is frowning, but there's a smile fighting to take place of his lips. "You hate camping."

"I do. And I'll complain about it. Loudly." He puts a piece of mozzarella in his mouth. "You're going to make it up to me. I have ideas." He takes their plates and goes to the couch, from where he says. "We're going to Yosemite for the summer, dork. Deal with it."

Oliver spends weeks saying thank you. He's pretty inventive about it.

 

They go camping, and Connor is too busy having fun to moan too much about it. He hates it, sure, and he almost weeps in joy when they embark on the plane back home, his bag heavy on his burnt shoulders, but he doesn't complain too much, since Oliver is smiling, and kissing him every chance he gets. Connor spends hours in their bathroom, and when he puts serum on his face and gets more aloe on his shoulders, Oliver sits next to him, on the side of the tub, and he looks so young and carefree Connor drags him to their bed, just because.

"You were right about the gym." Oliver says, voice muffled against the sheets, still panting. "We were way too out of shape for most of the hikes."

"It wasn't for the hikes." Connor stretches, feeling the cotton sliding from his skin and waiting for the little spark in Ollie's eyes. "There's so many things we need to see in Thailand, I don't want to be the fat American guy who can't keep up with the group, Ollie."

 

Oliver is quiet for a whole minute, and Connor waits. Oliver is really inventive. Really.

 

In reality, it's not so easy. They can't go back so soon, work has been piling up, and they don't exactly have the funds yet. Still, they decide to plan, they buy guides and spend too much time on the travel network, Oliver asks his colleagues, and Connor gets e-mails from his sister who has this friend who knows this guy who goes there every year. 

Sunday night is about the trip, how much it'll cost, what they need to do, where they'll go. It takes months, they fight, they make up, Connor sleeps on the couch, and Oliver screams at him, and they're still planning when Connor finally trusts himself enough to say goodbye to his appartment, and to put his name next to Oliver's on the mailbox.

 

They have the tickets, and are trying to decide on the hotels, when Oliver finally says something. Connor is resting against him, not so subtle about wanting his boyfriend's fingers carding through his hair when Oliver kisses his forehead and says.

"You didn't have to do this, you know ?" Connor doesn't move, he doesn't want to open his eyes, so he hits his head softly against Ollie's chest to make him explain. "Yosemite, now Thailand. I don't need you to do this for me."

"Does that mean we're getting a refund ? Ouch !" It's difficult to pout when Ollie kisses him to say sorry for the pinch, but Connor tries anyway. They spend what feels like hours like that, kissing and almost dozing off before kissing again. 

"You're too good, Con." whispers Ollie in the little hair on his temple. "You don't have to do all this for me."

"You don't get it, do you ?" He opens one eye, and the other, and he knows he probably looks like a kid, because Ollie bites his lips not to laugh at his frowning face. "I'm down for everything." He knows the moment Ollie gets it, because he doesn't smile, and there's something like sadness, and hope and a myriad of other feelings passing in the brown eyes. "Everything. The whole list." Oliver's fingers are trembling when they start to masage his head again, and Connor closes his eyes, getting comfortable against his boyfriend. "I mean it, Oliver. Eveything."

**Author's Note:**

> You can read it on tumblr if it's more your scene : http://iwanttopizzamanyou.tumblr.com/post/117621399204/yosemite
> 
> As usual, kudos and nice comments make me really really happy. Remember to drink water and to move a little.


End file.
